The Unimaginable
by Zenin
Summary: Everyone who knew Roald would agree...he was Mr. Perfect. But even perfect people do things that are unheard of. So when Roald sets out on a journey to prove his imperfections and knightliness, how does the kingdom react?
1. The End of the Beginning

**The Unimaginable**

by Zenin

_"There are some things you just can't imagine..." _

Prince Roald had it all.

The palace, the girls, the looks...  His father, King Jonathan, was renowned as the most handsome man in the kingdom; and it wasn't too hard to guess who was going to inherit the title next.

He was up to his ears in royal pampering. Sure, he became a page at the age of ten, just like all the other boys.  But really, what other boy was granted the privilege of ordering the other boys around?  Not that he did that.  No, Roald was a good boy.  A great boy.  A golden boy.

Mr. Perfect.

Even perfect people get fed up.  Even perfect people make decisions that are unheard of.  Even perfect people snap.

And if Roald were to snap, there would be no better time than now. 

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Just the prologue.  A wonderfully different story just struck me.  This is going to be sooo much fun!


	2. The Beginning of the End

**The Unimaginable**

by Zenin

_"There are some things you just can't imagine…"_

"Mawwage…that bwessed awwangement. That dweem wivvin a dweem…"

I glanced sideways at the girl beside me. Jet-black hair combed to fall in silky waves to her back, complemented by the creaminess of her skin, proclaimed her to be truly beautiful. Almond eyes were lowered, indicating respect for the ceremony. Her face was smooth, void of all expression as a small hand lightly traced the outline of the fan tucked into the obi of her bright kimono. She was gorgeous…exquisite…perfect.

"The dweem of wuv wapped wivvin the gweater dweem of everwasting west. Wemember that etewnity is our fwend and wuv wiw fowow you fowever," the priest droned on.

_Umm…what did he say? _I shook my head slightly. _We _have_ to start advertising for a new priest._

My thoughts wandered away from the ceremony and back to the girl beside me. You would think that I'd just jump for joy at the prospect of wedding such a wonderful girl. But, strangely enough, I didn't feel anything of the sort. In fact…I was kind of dreading it.

"Wiv gwace, wiv hope, wiv dweems, wiv wuv…continue to wiv out your wives in the acknowledgement that there is no gweater wuv than this: that a man lay down his wife for his fwrend."

_Okay…that's just messed up._

"You may kiss the bwide."

I watched as Keladry of Mindelan lifted her veil, flushing as Nealan of Queenscove bent down and kissed her gently. Neal had been in love with Kel for who knows how long. And all the time he had been trying to make her jealous by writing sickening sonnets to the most beautiful women in court. Needless to say, it hadn't worked out too well. He just hadn't known how to approach such an unusual girl. Kel liked to fight, to joust, to protect people from harm. To her, sonnets were meaningless. And the ever-romantic Neal had been at a loss for what to do. That is, until he had saved her life up in Scanra. 

Yes, that's right. Neal, the horrible fighter that he was, had thrown himself between Keladry and Stenmun, the man she had been fighting. Strangely enough, Neal had managed to lop off the guy's head…I guess by using some sword trickery that he had learned from the Lioness. Talk about luck.

I watched as the couple walked out of the chapel, bombarded by handfuls of rice. Neal bent next to Kel's ear and whispered something. Her hazel eyes widened and she slugged him in the shoulder. He winced, but smiled happily as he gave Kel a good shove, toppling the serene bride unceremoniously into the carriage. Their honeymoon began with much rejoicing and… "_Nealan of Queenscove_!" 

Everyone laughed as the carriage pulled out of sight, Neal effectively quieting his bride with kisses.

+==+==+==+

Yeah, okay...enough of the gagging ceremony. Who am I? 

Roald. Formally, I'm Prince Roald of Conte, the crown prince of Tortall and future king of the realm.

Whoop-de-do.

And, unfortunately, I will soon be following Neal's footsteps in a wedding of my very own. Yeah, that's right. I'm going to get married. In six months, to be precise. My bride-to-be is Shinkokami, Princess of the Yamani Islands. Miss Stone Face. I swear, even Keladry of Mindelan had a more expressive face. I don't think I can call Shinkokami "Lump" though. There are certain restrictions to being royalty. That's the thing that gets to me...

All my life I have been forced to be the perfect son to the perfect king. And just to let all you out there who actually seem to like my father, he is _not_ the perfect king. For instance, I do not think the perfect king goes around bedding every damned girl that comes from the convent. Not just the pretty ones, either. All of 'em. Well, I guess my father thinks he can do whatever he wants, as long as it doesn't interfere with the governing of his country. I suppose he has no clue about all the girls who suddenly had to disappear from court after "chatting" with him. Basically, I have no respect whatsoever for my father. And my poor mother has no clue.

You'd think that the king's own son would be a bit like him. Well, maybe in looks, but certainly not in action. My father never was a remarkable fighter. Sure, he has the Gift and all, but I still think that Lady Alanna did most of the work. Were it not for the Dominion Jewel (provided by the Lioness, I might add), my father would have lost everything in the Immortals War. My father may be an okay king, but I repeat, he is not perfect.

I have been trained to become the next king. The next perfect king, in fact. But there is a small problem...a rather minor detail...

I do not want to be king.

And I do not want to marry Shinko. 

Oh, she's okay, really. Very pretty, smart, talented...I might actually have liked her if she wasn't so…argh, what's the word I want? Domesticated? I suppose that's the word I was looking for. Shinkokami is very nice and all, but somehow she's missing something. Spice. Personality. The ability to defy me. All she ever says is "Yes, Your Highness." What about the freedom of speech?

Erm…well, I guess it is a bit daunting to know that I can lop off someone's head if they insult me.

But I don't do that. I have been insulted before. And, to tell you the truth, I'd much rather be insulted than coddled like some baby who can barely walk.

I want to fight. And I don't think I'd be too bad either, given the chance. I just want to experience a true brawl, rather than sparring with someone who barely brushes my skin with his sword. I'm tired of being protected.

So…

What happens next?

Do I continue this damned life of foppery? Or do I do something to alter the course of my life?

Naturally, the second option seems to be the best. A plan is springing to mind…but how can I exit the palace without being caught? Is there anyone I can trust in this palace who can help me? And the Rogue's spies are everywhere…

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Jingle bells, jingles bells, jingle all the way… I don't know if I like this chapter too much. Anyways, just to warn you, this chapter is subject to lots of happy editing.

© 2002 Zenin Industries


	3. Meeting Kate

**The Unimaginable**

by Zenin

_"There are some things you just can't imagine..."_

Here is what I was thinking: Why not see for myself if the Rogue would give me away? Maybe—just maybe—I might be able to negotiate with him and gain an ally. And even though I'm not exactly allowed to visit the Dancing Dove, I decided to give it a try, just to see the new Rogue. Yes, this guy was supposed to be pretty good. I have heard stories about how the guy can rob you blind with the blink of an eye. 

Literally. 

However, I was completely unprepared for what met my eyes—and ears—when I walked into the smoke filled inn. Well, that's what happens when you've been protected like some namby-pamby flower boy.

"MOCK—!"

"Yeah!

"—ING!"

"Yeah!"

"BIRD!"

"Yeah!"

"YEAH!"

"Yeah!"

_Mithros, _I thought to myself, stunned. _They're all lunatics... _I massaged my forehead pensively; trying to drown out the raucous shanty that was resonating throughout the Dancing Dove. By the time I found an empty table, it mattered not to me whether I learned the name of the current King of Thieves. The prospect of conversing with the very same guy who allowed barmaids to drunkenly lap-dance with bartenders was daunting. Not to mention the music selections were appalling. Let's just say the songs they were singing were not exactly Midwinter carols...

"OH, HAVE YOU HEARD HE'S GONNA BUY ME A MOCKING BIRD!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"

I was all ready to tiptoe my way out of the Dancing Dove when a girl suddenly appeared right in front of me_. _The very same girl who had been doing the lap-dance with the bartender. Her hair was a rich chestnut color and her eyes were an amazing shade of blue-green. Without thinking, I let my eyes travel down her body, taking it all in. 

_Nice curves. Small waist. Really rather cute..._ My thoughts ground to a sudden halt as she slid a hand up my chest to rest on my shoulder, smiling a bit too sweetly to be innocent. "Hey there."

_Uh...umm..._

I smiled weakly and tried retreating, but my back slammed against the wall. A different tactic must be used, I decided quickly. I tried to give her the old why-did-you-stop-me-and-by-the-Goddess-do-not-touch-me routine, but she waved it aside casually. The dazzling green-blue eyes rolled to the ceiling, as she shook her head pityingly. "What, did you actually think I'm interested in you? _Gods_, Conté. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

My mouth dropped open. First of all, how the heck did she know my name? "I beg your pardon, miss." I managed to stutter, flushing.

The beautiful eyes rolled again. "I heard you wanted to see me, so here I am. What's up, boy?"

I shook my head, my shock draining away. The Rogue must have had a pretty good sense of humor to try this on me. Very funny. I chuckled lightly to myself as I answered. "Actually, I'm here to see the Rogue. Although, I might take some time from my busy schedule to get to know _you_."

Whoa. Where did that come from? I guess I have a streak of my father in me after all. 

Damn.

Her reaction was not what I expected. When the crown prince makes a pass at you, wouldn't you be flattered or something? I mean, I never flirt. I did not even know I knew _how_. I swear, one minute I was winking at her…and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. It really hurt. A hand appeared in my vision and I took it, not thinking. Again, I sailed through the air and into a small table. The table broke upon impact as the formerly singing crowd suddenly quieted and all eyes turned to me. 

_This can't be good._

Surprisingly, it was the girl who rescued me from having to explain the situation. She ignored the crowd and grabbed my hands, pulling me up from the ground and giggling flirtatiously. "Jamesie! You domnoddy! I think you've had a bit too much to drink, 'ey?"

_Jamesie? Mithros and Goddess above...what have I gotten myself into?_

The crowd's attention waned as she brushed me off and began to lecture me in a very business-like manner, pausing only to kiss the bruise developing on my wrist. I was in complete shock. A thought began rattling around in my head like an experimental spell gone wrong: _I should go now. I really should. Must leave. I should go..._

My mind was so fogged up, I barely comprehended what was happening until I was tugged into a room. Then everything cleared with remarkable rapidity as the girl whirled around and slapped me. Hard.

"Idiot!" she hissed. "Domnoddy! You could have given yourself away! Damn you!"

Talk about mood swings. I straitened and touched my cheek briefly, surprised as waves of anger flow over me. "Idiot? Go look in the mirror, slut."

I immediately regretted the words...that is, until I got slapped again. By the time this whole episode is done, I will most likely be brain-dead on account of one vicious barmaid. I glared at her, eyes narrowed. "Why am I here? I did not wish to speak with some rabid wench."

This time I manage to flick my head to the side as her hand lashed out again. I continued, bravely. "I want to speak to the Rogue," I stated flatly. 

"I _am_ the Rogue!"

_Dear Lord, she's deranged._ I thought to myself, beginning to understand the strange mood swings. I decided to be gentle with her, not even flinching when she tried striking me again. "I can help you, if you wish," I said gently as I caught her fist in my hand and deflected the blow.

She stopped, her hand poised for more action. You know, for such a little thing, she sure had a lot of power. Her blue-green eyes narrowed venomously. "What did you say?"

"I get help you. At the palace, we have this mage and he can heal you." Her face still showed confusion, so I simply smiled. "Your mind. You're ill. I can get you help."

Comprehension dawned on her face and suddenly, I wished I had just gone along with her little game. The room spun eerily as I got tackled to the floor by a five foot, four inch tornado. Fortunately for me, the door opened just then and interrupted the soon-to-be beating of the century. A man walked in, stopping short when seeing us. "Kate?"

She slid off of me and looked at the man, her cheeks decidedly red. A rather long moment of silence transpired, in which the blonde-haired man and the girl stared at each other, flushing so brightly you'd think it was 132 degrees Fahrenheit. Finally, the girl spoke, glancing at her feet, her voice apologetic. 

"I was just trying to teach him a lesson, Terry. He wasn't listening."

I struggled to my feet and attempted a bow. "Sir, I believe your barmaid is in need of mental assistance. She claims," here I laughed slightly, glad for the protecting presence of the man. "She claims that she is the Rogue…so um…"

My voice faded as the man simply stared at me, shaking his head slowly. Finally, he turned to the girl, disgust written all over his face. "_This_ is the future king?"

"That's just what I thought," the girl said, a corner of her mouth curving into a roguish grin.

I frowned. "Am I missing something?"

"Yes," she retorted. "your brain."

My jaw tightened and I turned to the man for explanation. The man simply studied me for a little while longer, then said, his voice dripping with condescension, "Your Highness, I present to you the Rogue...otherwise known as Kate."

The gods hate me.

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Hmmm…this has been revised a little, but it could use more. Review if you like, I'd enjoy getting input.

© 2002 Zenin Industries


	4. Making plans with the Devil

**The Unimaginable  
**by Zenin

0

_"There are some things you just can't imagine…"_

0

I touched a melted icepack to my aching head, stifling curses as the stinging sensation bit into my skin. I could only heal myself so much, you know. I wasn't fantastic at it either. No practice.

Huh. Talk to the Rogue, I had told myself. He'll help you! Why, even your father was friends with the Rogue. Why wouldn't the Rogue want to be friends with you?

Maybe because I insulted her and then lost it when I found out she was a girl.

Mother always said I was a bright boy.

Speaking of Mother…

The door opened and she swept in, the room immediately lightening with her sweet smile. "Roald, you did not dine with us tonight. I –"

She broke off quickly and her hand slipped out to tilt my chin up. Her face paled. "Roald! What happened to you?"

Oh, well, it's like this, Mother. I went to the bar…yeah, you know, the notorious Dancing Dove, official den of thieves and spies. Yes. And the ale wasn't particularly all _that_ good, but I met this girl and she turned out to be the Rogue and she beat the bloody hell out of me.

Why'd I go there in the first place?

I forget. Brain damage, you know.

"I fell," I said calmly. How original.

She eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then sighed. "You need a healer," she said briskly. "Let me just –"

"No!" I cried, jumping to my feet. Mother stared at me.

"I mean, no thank you. I can take care of it, Mother. It's just a bump."

"You should at least have some ice on it," she said firmly.

I shrugged helplessly and watched as she swept from the room. My sweet mother. So caring, so coddling, so completely like a strait jacket.

A chill breeze swept the room in a sudden gust. I shivered and went over to shut the window. I don't know how it had gotten opened. Had Mother opened it? Normally, I really do not like drafts…

"So what exactly are you planning, anyway?"

The soft voice startled me. I slammed the window shut and spun to face the girl sitting comfortably in my chair.

The Rogue was flipping a small knife in between her fingers, looking very bored. The knife whirred from slow, to faster, becoming a blur of shining metal –

"Well?" she said impatiently. My mind snapped back to the present.

"Um," I began elegantly. "Well…"

It seemed to easy to put into words earlier. "I'm going to abdicate the throne," I blurted.

She raised her eyebrows, delicately questioning. "Don't be stupid," she said finally. "You aren't even on the throne. Yet."

I swung around and stared moodily out the window, my temper getting the better of me. "You know what I mean," I muttered. "I'm not fit to be King. You even said so yourself. I need to find a new heir to the throne –"

"Your sister," the Rogue said calmly. "Now, was that so hard?"

"You and I both know that my sister has already been chosen to be queen of the Carthaki Isles. If I abdicate – or whatever – that would automatically give the throne to the Carthakis, through my sister, and then the country of Tortall would be dissolved into the Carthaki Empire." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's not as easy as it looks."

"Actually, it is," she said. I turned to her.

"Suck it up and be the King. I mean, you certainly won't be the best – gods, just _look_ at you – but you won't be the worst Tortall has ever had. Now, if you'll excuse me…your _Highness_."

Just look at you. _Yes, just look at me_, I thought bitterly. _The pampered prince of Corus, heir to the throne of a fickle bastard._ It stung, her words, but what could I do? I turned from the window and bowed, gritting my teeth into a smile. "My lady."

Her hand paused on the handle of the door. She looked back, hazel eyes curious. "Just out of curiosity, how were you planning on finding a new heir?"

I smiled slightly, the irony of my plan touching me. "Through my father, of course."

She frowned. "You're going to _ask_ him to get another heir?"

"_Now_ look who's being stupid." I said smugly. "Ask him? Of course not. I'm going to try to find a son older than I who is suitable to take the throne."

Realization dawned. Her eyes widened with interest, while she tried to keep her dry, sarcastic façade going. "So, you're going to ride blindly into the countryside, calling out for any poor maiden the King used to come out and show you her sons?"

"I shall investigate into the various connections he made with the young ladies of the Court, and pay each lady a visit. It's called _research_, my lady. I'm sure you have heard the term before."

She ignored my jibe. "You'll need a disguise," said the Rogue, her eyes calculating.

"And a substantial distraction for the Royal guards," I prompted, watching her carefully.

She twisted a chestnut curl around her finger pensively. Finally, she glanced up at me. "Okay, Prince Perfect, I'll help." She held up a hand to keep me from speaking. "But only because I'd just love to watch you screw yourself up irreversibly."

I raised an eyebrow. "I suddenly feel so…warm inside. Your tender promises move me."

How she moved so quickly will forever be a mystery to me. I felt a stinging slap across my face – and then the window was open and my mother was standing in the doorway.

"Roald? Roald! Your face looks worse! It's beginning to swell!"

I held up a hand at her and touched my face gingerly. I could feel the swelling reduce as my healing gift took over.

Mother bustled around the room, her lips thin. "Well, if you do not want help, fine. Do you really want that window open?"

0

The following night was cool and dark. I made sure my sword hilt was covered as I slipped outside. The Rogue may have agreed to help, but I was determined to be prepared in case she had decided to pull out. Any glitter of metal should be covered to avoid being seen.

I had dressed myself in the most nondescript tunic I could find, a black one with silvery blue trimming. A dark cloak, spelled to keep out the rain completed my outfit. I tugged at the straps of a leather knapsack and strolled casually around the corner of the ramparts, heading for the stables. My horse awaited me there, already saddled and ready to ride with saddle bags loaded with food and flasks of water.

My ears picked up an unfamiliar sound. I quickly flattened against the wall, wishing my eyes would adjust faster to the darkness of the night. In the gloom, I heard a rasping sound.

It continued rhythmically for quite some time. I edged closer. A crumpled heap of blue was lightly snoring, its ham-like hand clutching a flask. A guard.

Despite myself, I grinned. The Rogue had followed through on her promise.

My horse whickered lightly at my approach. I stroked his elegant neck. "Adventure at last, Zephyr." He blew through his nostrils at the other horses in their partitions, each horse watching me with forward pricked ears. I shook my head, smiling.

"No nursemaids this time, old boy. We ride alone."

He seemed as eager as I to start our journey after that. I swung a leg over and nudged him into a slow walk out of the stables.

We were almost out of the gate when a sudden cry of alarm broke through the still air.

"Prince Roald's horse is missing!"

Good old Evan. Never slept on the job. The old horse-whisperer checked the horses every four hours during the night. It would be my luck that he chose this hour.

The shouts echoed oddly as I kicked Zephyr into a run. Then I realized it was no echo. The guards were galloping through the gate and after me.

Good job, Kate, I thought raggedly. Damn good job. Now I have a bloody troupe after me.

"Not if I can help it."

A slender shape on horseback veered out of the shadows of the surrounding forest. It raced towards the oncoming guards. I whipped around and focused on riding, breaking off from the main road and onto one of the many small trails that led into the forest.

A bright flash whitened my vision momentarily, accompanied by a resounding clap of thunder. Zephyr reared.

"What are you waiting for?" A quick hand grabbed the reigns of my horse and led us into a gallop again. "Fool!"

My eyes slowly adjusted. I blinked white spots from my vision, then ripped off a glove to touch a hand to my closed eyelids. Vision restored, I stared at my companion.

"Oh, _no_. You turn right around, my lady, and go home. This is not a trip for women."

She glanced at me from beneath her black headscarf, and fluttered her large hazel eyes prettily. "If you say that again within my hearing, I will break your arm." She turned to watch the path. "Besides, there's no way I'd miss the fun."

I knew there was no way she was thinking of picnics in meadows or laughter-filled parties at houses of nobility. She just expected me to screw up.

I yanked my reins from her gloved hand and rode ahead, glowering at the bleak forest landscape.

* * *

Well, a new chapter for this as well! Enjoy! 


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